


Eventide

by Sherloqued



Series: Answer Before Night [6]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherloqued/pseuds/Sherloqued





	Eventide

_First Night_

 

At sundown, at what would be eventide prayers for me, there is a change aboard the ship.   I speak the prayers to myself.  The crewmen of the day retire to eat and sleep, and the night crew begin their watch.   I am between daylight and darkness.

At dusk, I see and hear the crew looking up into the late spring sky from the ship's bow, pointing to and discussing the position of the stars and constellations as they emerge, navigating by the stars, the North Star fixed overhead.  Others trim the sail, and the ship's mood slows.   The shipbuilder is with them.  I have gathered that his name is Hrafna-Flóki, Raven-Flóki.   Light glimmers on the darkening water and the boat rocks gently on the waves. 

I am untied by the one they call Ragnar Shaggy Breeches, seemingly with much affection, who is their leader and with whom they have an easy camaraderie, as I have observed a few of the men clap him on the shoulder, joke and laugh with him.   Where could I go anyway; and we both know it, and as he crouches down to untie me, he looks into my eyes and smiles, and our hands briefly touch.   

My wrists are sore and my body is stiff from being in the same position for so long, and I appreciate the opportunity to get up and move about.  He is handsome, as I see him from this closely, fair-haired; with a slim and wiry-strong build.  He is gentle with me now though, and hands me a rough, worn blanket, nods, and I am shown where I may sleep - between the ribs of the ship with the rest of the crew; and needless to say, I do not get the choicest spot.   I am given haberdine, or salted codfish, to eat, with some kind of hardtack bread, and something alcoholic to drink.  Mead, I find that it is, and I am hungry.  

Hrafna-Flóki's ravens settle and murmur from their wicker birdcages nearby, and the boards and timbers creak with the rhythm of the sea as I drift off to into a fitful half-sleep, thinking that this may well be one of the most profound experiences of my life.


End file.
